Lessons in Need
by xliterati
Summary: PostR&R AU SmutFic. Aleksander misses dinner, and Alina is annoyed.


"You didn't come to dinner."

Her voice is sharp, akin to broken glass and he thinks that he could spend eternity listening to the piercing sound of her, if only because it makes him_ feel_ something again.

He turns his head softly in her direction. Alina Starkov is dressed from head to toe in black, save for the golden necklace that shines like a beacon from her chest. She is the very image of mourning, and he wants to pray for her darkness but like the gold glistening off of her he is always reminded of what she is. _Sun Summoner_. Light encapsulated in a being.

No, Alina Starkov is not darkness, and she never will be.

"I wasn't aware that my eating rituals are something you would concern yourself with Alina," he says lightly, as if her trite concern means nothing to him.

_Oh but it does it does it does_. It is nothingness in her voice but her words still exist and he wants so much to hear them again.

"You're right. You could starve to death tomorrow and I would declare a parade in Ravka."

Her eyes follow the length of him as her words settle into the space between them, carrying a weight of their own. Alina wants to witness a sign of affect, of plight, but the Darkling remains placid. Everything she has said to him, all of the hatred she's spat in his direction since her return, has failed to disturb him. In fact it seems to her that with each passing day he has become calmer.

His eyes follow hers, and he leans back against the window. She thinks her hatred can protect her, she believes it to be a shield.

_Oh, Alina_.

"There is passion to be had in your hatred for me," he says softly.

Alina's eyes narrow and the fire behind him crackles, as though bent to her emotional will. Suddenly she feels foolish. Foolish for having come here, foolish for standing before him with nothing to say, foolish foolish _foolish_.

She turns on her heel, cheeks aflame from humiliation, ready to walk out of the room.

"You said you had a taste for me once."

A physical force constricts her heart and she's thrown into the memory of what it was like to be kissed by him, to be held by him. Alina doesn't turn around. She's rooted to the spot from his words and from the betrayal of her memories. But she forces herself to stand tall. If her words cannot affect him, she will not give him the satisfaction of faltering with his uttered nonsense.

"And you," she says slowly, turning to look at him now, "once said I could make you a better man."

He smiles. "You appeal to the side of me that is fascinated with morality."

"It is a shame that you appeal to none of me," she replies, her words clipped and proper.

"Monsters, Alina, exist in us all. You told me I was afraid of the power that binds us together. But _you're_ afraid too. Afraid I'll turn you into a monster."

If she is shaken by his words she does not betray it. "You value your importance to be higher than it is."

He can't help it, he laughs. For a second Alina is thrown back by the sound, but she freezes in place. It is not right for a man like him to have a laugh so rich, so _human_.

"Spoken like a true ruler. I'm so proud."

She doesn't want his pride. She wants him on his knees before her, begging for mercy.

"I've learned what I've had to, to survive in this desolate place," she spits out.

Alina knows she's lost control, her voice is too heavy with anger, and she struggles to gain composure.

He stands up and Alina almost flinches but stays still. He walks over to where she stands and his heat does not escape her.

"Yes, of course. Apt pupil that you are," he whispers, and he's so close his breath dances into her hair.

"I'm willing to give you a lesson tonight, if you'd like," he says, his voice airy now, catching her attention.

"What could you possibly have to teach me?" she asks, betraying no interest.

He pulls away then, and there is an acute cold blanketed around her from his absence.

"What would you like to know?" he asks softly in return. He reminds her so much of the man he was before she saw his true face. Of the patient and understanding man who she believed had only sought to save Ravka and not condemn it. Of the man who'd convinced her he was trying to help her, to hone her skills.

He was trying to become the man she once saw him to be, the man who'd told her to embrace her power and not run from it.

But she was a different person then, she was only a girl. Frightened of herself, and uncertain of everything; she would have been so easy to play with. She isn't that girl now, and the Alina that stood before the Darkling is intent on burning him in his own game.

And in part she has him to thank for that. If he hadn't instilled in her to not run from what she was, she would never have become the person she was now.

_I'd like to know what you look like when I ruin you_, she thinks.

"Perhaps you'd like to know what I look like on my knees before you."

Her breath gets caught in her throat and she wants so desperately to look away but she can't bring herself to.

"A glimpse for when you ruin me," he continues, as if he's read her mind.

"Stop," comes her guttural command.

And he does, but then he moves so fluidly that he's standing right before her and the only thing separating their skins are the clothes bound to them.

"I want the taste of you on my tongue," he whispers and there is an uncontrollable shiver that follows down her spine.

He doesn't say anything more; instead he bends forward, his lips finding the curve of her neck. He does not kiss her; his lips play with her feverish skin until slowly his teeth graze the curve of her skin.

An involuntary sound escapes her mouth as he continues to nip the skin on her neck. She loses herself in the sensation until she feels movement between her skirts. His hand carefully follows the billows of her dress to the space between her legs and she wants to close her knees, but he's already there and he can feel her heat.

The contact breaks something in Alina, and with one hand against his chest she pushes him away from her.

"Do not think you can seduce me again, I am not the toy you once found amusement in," she bites out.

His eyes flash with something and he smirks. "No. No you're not. In fact you're entirely too interesting now Alina."

"I'll see myself out," she says, her patience wearing thin.

"Will you allow me the pleasure of your company in the dark?" his voice calls out to her.

"Are you asking for permission?"

"You are surprised," he notes, with a slight arching of his brow.

"You haunted me for days, weeks, _months_, on end. And now when I am in this wretched palace of yours just as you wanted, you're ask me for permission?" she says incredulously.

Alina shakes her head, anger burning her skin. "You did it then and you will do it now. My consent means nothing to you. _I_ mean nothing to you. You only want me for my power."

Alina takes a step forward then, meeting his gaze head on. "You see me only as your weapon."

His eyes flash and his hand snakes out to her waist. His touch is hard and his eyes flat. "You paint me as your villain and it allows you to feel justified in your moral ground."

"If it weren't for me you would have killed half of Ravka in your lust for power. My morality does not allow for me to kill innocents for power. I want nothing of this stupid gift, but I will be thankful to the end of my days for it. Because it allows me to stop you. I am the only thing standing in your way and you can't kill me because you need me."

"In more ways than you know."

Suddenly it burns her lungs to breathe and Alina's mind sways from his words. "Don't."

His response is to drop his forehead against hers. The contact of his cold skin against hers makes her feverish and she wants so much to lean into him.

"I have made you question your heart," he says, his words weighing around her.

"I make you question it still."

Alina cannot help it, she pulls away to look into his gray eyes and she regrets it instantly. Those eyes that had once poured into her belief and encouragement. The same eyes that had lied to her, manipulated her, betrayed her.

"Eternity is a long time Alina, we rule now, we rule forever. You will give into me, eventually you will."

He was right. Everyone she loved would die. And all that would remain would be him.

"I am a very patient man my light."

She wants so much to be the girl that had wanted to please him, the girl that had seen his ambition and had believed in it.

"And I am very stubborn."

He lifts his head so that his lips are whispers against her skin. In an abrupt motion he pins her against the closest wall, one leg wedged between her two.

Alina turns to get away from him but his hands are fastened around her wrist, shackles she cannot break.

"What are you doing?" is her low response.

She flattens her back against the wall and he brings her hands forward, joining them at her wrists. He looks down at her through his lashes, his gray eyes studying her sordid expression. Slowly he moves forward and Alina stills. His eyes not leaving hers he places a small, chaste kiss to her fingers.

"Alina," her name a whisper on his tongue, singes her skin.

It is undeniable, magnanimous, the way he makes her feel. As though only she were capable of bringing him to his knees. In another lifetime she could have afforded to drown herself in him, in the way he says her name, in the way that he looks at her, solely at her.

_There are no others like us, there never will be_.

"Aleksander," she says, whispering his name like a demand.

His eyes snap up to hers and his bewilderment is not to be missed. He inches closer his nose a breath from hers.

"Again," he commands.

Alina breaks the contact of their hands and instead pulls the collar of his kefta, bringing his body completely against her own.

"Aleksander," she breathes against his lips, harder this time.

He closes his eyes but when Alina moves away from him, his hand is in her hair and he pulls her forward. When his lips find hers there is so much need in his touch Alina falls in the current of it. His hands are suddenly everywhere as his kisses fill her with a hungry ache.

The binds of her dress loosen and she knows that his kefta is somewhere on the floor. All she feels is his warm skin under hands and the pulsing heat between her legs.

She can feel the rising hem of her dress and when he brings it to her waist he finally pulls away from her, his breath erratic and his colour flushed. For a split moment she's confused, but then he drops to his knees, his eyes trained to her swollen lips, and he smiles.

_On his knees._

He tears the skirt of her dress in two, and then guides her leg over his shoulder. His hand starts to trail the length of her standing leg, tracing patterns on her thigh. Alina wants to scream, to rip his hair out, but she is undefeated in her calm. Its when he starts to kiss the sensitive flesh on the inside of her thighs that Alina feels she can no longer win this battle. His lips warm and teasing against her, trailing so close to where she's aching, but then descending further away.

He follows this pattern until she visibly starts to shake against him. When he pulls away to look at her, he finds her eyes closed and knuckles white against the fabric of her dress.

"Open your eyes."

And she does, and she is suddenly so naked before him it terrifies her.

"I want you to look at me when I bring you pleasure."

She can't even bring herself to nod she simply lays her head back against the wall as he rips her thin undergarment apart.

He begins to kiss the inside of her thighs again and just when she thinks he will pull away again, she feels his tongue reaches out and pull her lips apart.

A million things flash before her eyes and he licks the side of her flesh again and again, slower this time, testing her patience. His tongue is warm and wet against her heated flesh and she wants to push his head closer between her legs, not wanting any of him to escape her.

His tongue descends finding her sex, circling it lazily. He drinks in the wetness of her and continues to trace the outside of her sex, never once venturing in.

"Aleksander, p…please."

She is begging, she is aching, he is the one on his knees before her and yet she is the one who pleads.

If he hears her he makes no motion of it, instead continuing to tease her senses numb. Just when she thinks she's about to be torn apart his tongue moves across all of her, licking every inch. Her moan is like thunder in the quiet of his study and Aleksander wants to capture the sound forever, but pulls away.

She grunts in frustration and Aleksander leaning his warm, flushed face against the inside of her thigh, smiles.

"Shhh Alina. Patience," he whispers against her skin.

Alina doesn't know how she gets to the bed, but suddenly her back is atop the soft satin of her sheets, and Aleksander is between her legs, her exposed skin tingling from the cold.

His mouth catches the base of her throat and Alina moans as his hands travel the length of her chest. In seconds her corset is discarded and the coolness of her sheets caress her naked back.

"Alina," he whispers again, trailing kisses down her chest, between her breasts, down to the base of her navel, and lower still.

Her breath catches as his mouth finds her clit, and Alina's hands delve into his hair.

His tongue, just as she starts to pull away from him, brings her back, gliding over her again and again, pushing the ends of her restraint. Aleksander's one hand grips her waist, but after a beat travels up her ribs, fingers exploring her skin. As his tongue continues with a slow, pleasureable rhythm, his thumb stops short of her breast, rubbing the bottom of her plush skin.

Aleksander's thumb finally ascends, finding her taut nipple. Alina shudders as he grazes her sensitive skin, her moans only feeding his hunger for her. He catches her nipple between his thumb and finger, and the sharp pleasure spreads through Alina.

"Aleksander!"

His name on her lips in pleasure is the sound he traps in his black heart, and he knows that if he were to die by her hands tomorrow, this moment would be his even after death. He wants to say her name, he wants to give her the world for what she has given him.

So he fucks her, in and out, slowly, lazily, the warmth of his tongue against the warmth of her core. Alina's head swims in a haze and she arches her back, wanting to lose herself in him. She follows his rhythm, coming together and falling apart, her flesh, his tongue, and the scent of unadulterated sex between them.

He moves up, his mouth closing in on her clit to bring her over the edge. Alina feels tension build at the small of her back as his tongue licks her flesh relentlessly. Her fingers grip his hair tighter, and her hips begin to grind against him, drowning him in her wet scent.

Aleksander doesn't stop, her encouragement enough for him to grip both ends of her waist to stop her from shaking away from him. He can feel her tension, her body ready to let go _just for him_.

_Come for me my light_. And then she does, gasping and moaning, clutching at him with raw need. The entire room shatters from her light and her body explodes with sensation. She knows that nothing, not even power, can fill her with such satisfaction.

Aleksander watches her, the waves of pleasure washing over her, and burns the image of her crippling with pleasure into his memory. On his knees between her legs, he rubs his knuckles slowly over the ripples of her ribs, watching her glowing skin dull from the explosion of her power.

She meets his eyes in the glowing aftermath of her fading light, and the need in his gray eyes pours into her.

_I've done this to you_, he says silently, his thumb grazing the bottom of her jaw.

Alina closes her eyes, her body numb to everything but the touch of his hand, and the shifting weight of him between her legs. She's desperate to cling to regret, to find some sort of guilt in her heart, but finds nothing. Instead, terrified, she realizes all she feels is need, and when she opens her eyes to find Aleksander's, they are a reflection of her own.


End file.
